


In the shadow of the cliffs

by Anon581



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Sexy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22670257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon581/pseuds/Anon581
Summary: A bit of an improper encounter after Babington's wedding and before the final scene.
Comments: 25
Kudos: 126





	In the shadow of the cliffs

In the Shadow of the Cliffs

Sidney dreams of running away to Antigua. He would take Georgiana and Charlotte and they could all live the lives they actually wanted. Tom could go to jail. He made the mistakes, he could pay for them. Sidney would support Mary and the children from across the ocean, perhaps that would grant him enough peace of mind to abandon his brother. 

He imagines Charlotte’s reaction to seeing the ocean turn from deep dark blue to bright turquoise and clear. He imagines her in the shadows of the jungle, beautiful tropical flowers surrounding her. He imagines feeding her fresh pineapple, banana, avocado, seeing her pleasure with each new delicious discovery. She would do so well on the island, unlike so many English wives, unlike Eliza. Her adventurous spirit, her enthusiasm for new experiences, joy would bloom on her face daily. They could have children, children that would live in bare feet, nap in hammocks, plan their play around the tides. Children who knew sunshine and wouldn’t understand the reality of a cold, gray English day. Mostly, when he would allow himself to fully trespass into dreams, he would imagine swimming with her. The water so warm, their bodies bobbing next to each other in the waves, touching, embracing, sunlight everywhere. He would buy property in a purposefully secluded spot along the shore, build their home and revel in swimming privately, away from the blasted world with his wife. But truly it was a dangerous reverie because it would leave him with such incredible longing that coming back to reality felt like living death.

But that’s where he found his mind wandering the day after Babington’s wedding. He had woken up early and gone for a swim to clear his mind and set his resolve to move forward with Eliza. Seeing Charlotte in the setting of a wedding was beyond gutting. If only he had pulled her away from the dance floor the night of the midsummer ball. His nerves had kept him on the sidelines. He told himself it would be ungentlemanly to take her from her dance partner. But if only he had proposed they’d be facing the devastation left by the fire together because they would have already committed themselves to each other. They could have already been married like Babington. They could be waking up together this morning. Instead he listened dutifully to Eliza yesterday as she spoke of her own plans for their wedding. She would be his wife. He would wake up to her. Had he never met Charlotte perhaps the redemption of reconnecting with lost love would be enough to mask the deep changes that had happened within each of them since they were previously affianced. But they were both so different now with such different values and that was made so starkly obvious in the juxtaposition of Charlotte and Eliza. 

He walked straight out of town along the shore. He had less interest than ever in empty social niceties and small talk. With a life with Eliza closing in on him he sought out privacy and silence as frequently as possible. When he felt he was far enough to avoid humanity he stopped, stripped of his clothes and strode to the water. He dove straight in, letting the cold water shock his entire body all at once. He swam with long, confident, meaningful strokes thinking only of the sea. That was his goal and it was well achieved until he stepped back on the shore. As his body rose from the cold water Charlotte flooded immediately back into all the corners of his mind. He pulled on his pants, sat on a boulder in the sun and allowed himself to dream, promising himself it would be the last time, of swimming in Antigua.

Charlotte was furious. She had been robbed of a future she desperately wanted and she found herself very uncharacteristically angry. She was so angry about the fire that stole Sidney from her but then she had to immediately reprove herself because the fire tragically and truly stole Mr Stringer from the world. She was so angry with Tom for making such horrible business decisions but then again she loved him and his family and could not bear to see them in pain simply because he let his big dreams carry him out to sea. Charlotte's thwarted anger only grew because it could not find a target to comfortably rest. She felt caged by her anger, she paced with it every day and every night. And then it would melt into complete sorrow and she would be lost until the anger built again. It was difficult to hide all of this. She would be leaving for Willingden in a day and she simply needed to push through until she could curse and wail in the comfort and privacy of the far woods at home.

But this morning, the morning after Babington’s wedding was not a morning she could put on a brave and friendly face. This morning she needed solitude. She walked down to the beach in just her cotton dress, bare arms, no coat. It was warm for September but there was a strong wind and she felt she needed to really feel it on her skin, expose herself to the salt air, allow something, if only the wind to really touch her, feel her and understand her state. The anger was swirling through her, directed at Sidney now, his cowardly behavior at the wedding, standing at Eliza’s side, losing his strong will to her. He could just leave Eliza and take her away. He could just gather her in the night and they could just disappear. To hell with what anyone thought. But as always her anger only restlessly swirled and could not settle for she felt Sidney was in anguish equal to hers. 

She walked on and on losing herself in her own thoughts, the roar of the waves an appropriate and comfortable companion. And then suddenly she was completely startled by the sight of him. In all honesty, she always held a barely conscious hope that maybe she’d see Sidney whenever she walked the beach. It always reminded her of him, of catching him swimming that afternoon that seemed so very long ago. He was sitting in his trousers on a large boulder at the edge of the water watching the sea. He felt her presence and looked up to see her about 200 feet from where he sat walking directly towards him. Sidney stood and held still for a moment unsure of what to do. He pushed his mind to think of something to say, something that would feel like their past camaraderie without being too painful. “Miss Heywood, you seem to always catch me after a swim.” But no, his mind couldn’t really form any reasonable thoughts. He should put on his shirt, be presentable in the presence of a lady but he couldn't move to do that either. He simply stared and then moved forward with his mind only blaring that she was here, nothing more. They walked towards each other as if they were pulled by magnets stopping mere inches apart. 

Charlotte looked up at him. Sidney's face was dark and brooding as it often was but his eyes had the tenderness that had been directed at her briefly before everything fell apart. She could see that it was true, the same storm that battered her seemed to be swirling in him. Their eyes were locked but neither could find a word worth saying. Charlotte’s face was at his chest and she let her eyes drop to his bare torso. Without thinking she reached up and placed her hand on his chest. His breath caught. Her heart stopped. They were both shocked and still for a moment. She could feel his heart beating quickly against her palm. She ran her hand down his chest to his stomach, his side and then to his wrist and up his arm, slowly, exploring his skin. Soon both hands were on his shoulders and then running simultaneously down his torso again. 

Sidney was rooted to the moment, to her touch, willing his body to feel and memorize this sensation, this pressure. He watched her hands intently. But as always his wits came to him and he realized what a dangerous situation this was. He lifted his eyes to scan the clifftops, the shoreline, the water. No one in sight but clearly this moment, this moment that he could not bring himself to end, had the potential to ruin Charlotte. He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her several inches off the ground, desperately trying not to break her contact with his naked skin. They locked eyes again as he carefully walked across the rocky shallow beach into the shade beside the cliff. He set her feet back on the ground gently. It would be almost impossible for anyone to see them at this location.

He let his hands raise from her waist, tracing her sides, wandering down her arms and up her back. Their bodies were pressed against each other now. Charlotte could feel Sidney’s hardness up against her belly and her longing combined with the swirling anger. She had been so naive when she came to Sanditon, didn’t truly understand what her father’s warnings had meant. When Clara had talked to her at the first ball of Edward forcing himself on her it took her several minutes to realize the gravity of what she had meant. She had been shocked by Georgiana’s intimacy with Otis, the secrets they shared and the passion that pulled them together. And then she had seen Sidney at a brothel, one he seemed familiar with and it all made her angry. Why was she the only one following these rules of decorum? She and Sidney should be married, should be allowed the right to enjoy each other as a couple. They never even had time to court, to have moments of innocent, guarded heat. To hell with it, she pressed herself purposefully back against him. 

Sidney quickly gasped, his eyes shut tight. Before Charlotte had appeared in the flesh she had been in his mind, the seawater of Antigua on her eyelashes, her toes visible through the water on the ocean floor. They had been nude in the water together their bodies free to each other. This daydream interrupted, to now have her here, her real body boldly on his was requiring every bit of restraint to hold himself back from taking her now as his own. He knew he should immediately back away, should not allow this to go further. He could not resist lifting her chin with his hand though and looking deeply into her eyes. Their eyes expressed the urge, the love, the anger they both felt. And then they kissed, deeply passionately knowing this was all they had. 

The urgency continued to build until, as the cycle went, Charlotte’s anger turned to sorrow and a sob escaped her lips breaking their kiss, their passion. She dropped her head to his chest and nuzzled her face into it quietly sobbing. He buried his face into her hair and let his own tears fall. His hands softly stroked her back, her hair, her neck. Her arms clasped tightly around his middle, keeping her standing as she unloaded her heartbreak directly into his chest, allowing their hearts the proximity to mourn together. After what felt like ages resignation started to seep into Charlotte. She loosened her grasp, straightened up, held her eyes to his one more time. This was it. She wouldn't fight. There wasn't a reasonable battle to be fought. She allowed her eyes to trail over his body, back to his beautiful face again and then she turned and walked away.

He wanted to grab her, to rush back to her side but what would he say? He had nothing true to offer her besides his useless love. He then realized that after months of sharing cutting words, witty words and words that spoke directly to each others’ souls, this, perhaps their last meeting held no words. Not a moan, barely a sigh. Silence had marked this sacred moment. There would be no marriage spent in the warm sunshine of Antigua. Perhaps this was all their union could ever be, a brief escape in the cool shadow of a cliff in English autumn.


End file.
